


Shattered Simplicity

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: ADHD, Alternative Weapons, Anxiety, Canon is Promptly Ejected out the Window, Depression, I Tried, I’m awful at tagging, Someone probably dies at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-09 21:47:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Victory may have once been in a simple soul, but what if said soul has no intent on providing said victory?





	1. 0-1: Roseblood

Ruby Rose is born with silver eyes, just like her mother. She looks curiously out into the world with wide eyes and a bright smile that refuses to be extinguished. She’s a little sick when she’s young, but never lets that stop her. That changes at six, when she spends two weeks in a hospital with some disease that nearly puts her in a coma.

After that, she finds herself worrying far more often about most everything, her worries drowning out her normal thoughts with ‘what-ifs’ like a roiling tide of TV static that eats her alive. Her smile is always tinted with fear on the edges, and she second-guesses every moment of her existence- every word, every action, every breath she takes judged by a panicking mind.

Mom disappears on a mission, is promptly marked as dead, and then they hold a funeral for a woman who doesn’t even show up in the casket. Ruby is devastated, but holds out hope, praying to any divine being that will listen that her mother will come home, but the worries don’t stop. 

Her appetite and mood diminish, leaving her an unstable mess who snaps at the slightest provocation. Otherwise she sequesters herself in her room and is dead to the world, only doing things when she finds them to be problems herself. Taiyang is emotionally broken by his second wife’s loss, and as such ignores the world just as badly as she does.

Yang drags her little sister out to see a professional after weeks of convincing, argument, and nearly a fistfight. A diagnosis appears after several sessions with a counselor- Generalized Anxiety, Depression, and apparently ADHD. Medications are assigned and adjusted, counseling continues, and progress slowly begins to show itself.

Ruby’s smiles- while small, few, and far between- finally come back. She shows herself more in her family’s presence and eats better. She takes better care to make herself presentable, although her wardrobe takes several large changes- she prefers utility and comfort to style, jeans to leggings and skirts, and sleep pants to shorts.

When she designs a hunting outfit, her skirt-thing and high-laced boots replaced by cargo pants and steel-toed combat boots. Her waist cincher, dress, and crimson hood are replaced with an armor-padded hoodie and industrial respirator.

She looks like some kind of punk, but Yang is proud of her- that’s all she cares about.

————

Ruby goes to get groceries from a small gas station that’s closer to home than the supermarket on Patch’s Main Street, tries to cut in front of a old-looking man who’s idling in front of the door, and finds herself two feet away on her ass. The world spins and she stumbles to her feet, eyes wide both with outrage and awe.

“What the _fuck?”_  she breathes, looking at the man. He grins through his bushy white beard and mustache, animalistic eyes glinting. “You’ve a lot to learn, cub.” She lets out a furious growl, charges with Semblance flaring, and is mashed into the wall ten seconds later with a combat knife to her throat.

This man is Søren Greenefield, an Atlesian ex-Hunter regarded as the ‘White Wolf of Atlas’, and is a hard old fucker who takes nobody’s shit, drinks enough to probably table Uncle Qrow, and thus subconsciously becomes Ruby’s new idol in life, even though she had long since given up on idols and heroes. 

(She spends nearly four months stalking him to find his home and beg him for training.

The old bastard tells her to show up at 6 AM or not to show up at all.

For the first time in her life, she’s up before Yang.)

———

She burns through three years in the man’s tutelage, learning his homebrewed “Shiver Claw” martial art- a mix of Mistralian Krav-Maga, Atlesian BlackOps hand-to-hand, and some weird, flowy movement style he only refers to as ‘the Old Ways’ with the reverence one usually carries for the Gods- and trying to be better at it than him.

She grows lithe, strong, and utterly incapable of being taken by surprise. Her Semblance (Speed) stops being for lacing momentum into her strikes and starts being to close the gap between her fists and those who run. Yang follows Ruby to the old man’s house and receives an ass-kicking from two people that move like shadows and hit like trains.

(Yang learns as well, although her training focuses more on breaking bones and submission holds than on vitals and quick executions.)

———

“Ruby? Ruby! Wake up, we’re going to Signal!” Yang shouts through her little sister’s door, hopping on one leg as she pulls up her pants. “C’mon! Your second semester won’t wait forever!”

Ruby’s muffled grumbles come through the door and she’s barely able to discern a “five minutes” from the cussing and surprisingly verbose complaining that has consumed her sister’s vocabulary. 

Yang takes the stairs three at a time and makes it downstairs in time to shovel a plate of breakfast into her mouth before grabbing her bag and scrambling out the door, Ruby stepping out onto their patio with a piece of toast in her mouth a moment later.


	2. 1-1-1: Ruby Rose, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning begins. Or something.

Ruby fiddles with the Atlesian combat knife in her hoodie pocket as she flips through the newest issue of Weapons Weekly, smiling slightly at the picture of a drum clip on its side spilling FMJ incendiary rounds onto a machining table. She taps her toes slightly to one of the songs on her playlist of recommended music- each sourced from Søren, Yang, and several of her big sister’s friends, then subsequently pirated by hers truly- as she flips through several more pages.

She gets the gut feeling something is off, sets the magazine back in its holder, then turns and comes face-to-face with an imposingly-sized man who demands everything she has. She arches an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, and crosses her arms.

“Hey, pal. You _sure_  you want to start something in here? We can handle this outside.” she queries the gentleman. He demands her possessions again. She sighs and hands over her Lien. The man demands her Scroll.

“Look, dude- I keep all my porn on here. There’s no way in _hell_  I'm giving you it. You already have three month’s worth of my money, just go already.” she says, eyes serious and a slight blush on her face. “Don’t be a cuck, alright?”

When she receives a less-than-positive response- in the form of an attempted punch instead of the much more sufficient ‘no’- she pulls out her knife and plunges it into his stomach, letting him gasp in pain and slump over her slightly. She pulls it back out and shoves him to the floor before stomping on his face and knocking him out.

She grabs his gun and her Lien back as she heads up towards the storefront.

———

Roman squints and looks around after hearing one of his ‘hired hands’ gasp in what suspiciously sounds like pain. He points over in the mook’s general direction and mutters a “go check that out” to the nearest associate of his, who goes to-

**_BANG._ **

The hired hand falls, a decently-sized hole smoking through his chest, and a little girl in the atire of an Atlesian street punk steps over him, the first dead one’s gun in her hands. The rest of his men stop what they’re up to and turn to arm themselves, several of them knocking things over to make some kind of makeshift cover. 

Knowing that this isn’t worth the risk, he beats a hasty retreat. 

———

Ruby opens up on the storefront with her stolen gun, perforating several of the stylishly-dressed crooks with what _seem_ to be Fire Dust rounds, ducking behind a shelf and leaning out to fire. 

_Click. Click. Click._

She growls and throws the twice-damned thing at the nearest schmuck- it shatters his glasses and breaks his nose, making him drop his pistol. She lunges out of cover in a burst of Semblance-boosted speed and grabs it, rolling past the man and braining one of the others, the idiot’s grey matter puffing out the back of his head in a comical ‘plbbt’ as he recoils and falls dead.

She handsprings out of the way of yet another volley of Dust-warped lead and hops up onto the counter, deftly avoiding a grisly end as Vale’s latest modern art piece, kicking an Ice Dust crystal from the counter (a purchase she had been planning to  make, sadly) at the broken-nosed goon before shooting it, the bastard becoming surrounded in a corona of relentless frigidity and freezing him solid. The others are rather frostbitten in some way, and she makes quick work of ending them.

———

Roman clambers up onto the rooftop and prepares to jump to his freedom.

“Hey, redhead. You forgot this.”

Searing pain punches into his chest and he cries out as he falls- the ladder saves him, but only by a hair.


	3. 1-1-2: Ruby Rose, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning... beginneth more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I make fanfiction I’m awful at it

Ruby watches the ginger’s coat darken with hot crimson blood as he’s airlifted away with whatever they came for. She shrugs, calling today a success, and turns to leave, bumping face-to-tits with a tall blonde who looks very displeased. Ruby’s exhaustion-addled mind makes a horrid decision on her behalf and she nuzzles into the woman’s breasts with a soft yawn and a small smile.

“You have very nice breasts, ma’am. May I sleep on them?”

**_SLAP!_ **

“...ow.”

———

“...and that’s how I got here, officer.” Ruby states confidently to the strange man with green eyes and silver hair, rubbing the hand-shaped bruise on her cheek. He looks amused- in fact, he looks like he’s trying not to chuckle- and a blushing ‘Glynda’ looks very, very upset. 

“Look, lady, I apologized already. I haven’t been sleeping very well, and your tremendous melons look like they’d make excellent pillows.”

Glynda’s face is as red as Uncle Qrow’s cape, and the man barely restrains a snicker. He leans forwards and studies her a little.

“...you have silver eyes.”

She rolls her ‘silver eyes’ and crosses her arms, leaning back in the chair. 

“Go fuck yourself- that’s an old legend, not truth.”

———

Yang can’t breathe through how hard she’s laughing, Taiyang apologizes what for feels like the millionth time, and Ruby just shrugs as she walks away from the whole deal- kinda done dealing with other people for the day, if she’s quite honest- and goes back to the Dust shop to pay for the ice Dust she used. 

She heads home to Patch on the airlift and immediately shows up at her teacher’s door. He opens it and looks at her, confused by her earnest grin. 

“I got into Beacon, Søren.”

He laughs and picks her up in a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a slut for comments  
> and by that I mean I don’t write unless there’s a comment section  
> (I’m very, very lonely)


	4. 0-2 (1-1-2-2): Reaction

Ozma’s eyes widen and he chokes on his hot cocoa as Summer’s daughter tells him to go fuck himself.

He takes a moment to process this, seeing as the last time he was told to do so he was shot thrice in the chest with Harbinger’s shotguns by a phenomenally drunk Qrow Branwen and nearly launching him out the side of his office.

He looks over to Glynda, who is completely and utterly flabbergasted by the perpetually-exhausted-looking Rose’s demand.

———

Ruby rolls her oh-so-special ‘silver eyes’ and looks him dead in his eyes, done with the games the man’s clearly trying to play.

“You fucks keep looking for hope, like it’s going to cure what ails this disgusting world.

Hope’s been dead since our long-gone shitfuck ancestors rose from whatever primordial soup the ‘Gods’ pulled them from- if you wanted hope, you’re going to either have to start pulling your new meat puppets at a younger age or _get_ your _shit_ in _gear_ and make an active effort to not lead us along by strings, you fossilized ape-looking **_cocksucker_**. 

Your legends are just that- legends. There’s no reason to waste Lien on children’s tales and nursery rhymes.

Or you can spend all that fancy-ass rich people money on resurrecting the dead, since they’ll probably die slower deaths the second time- leave the new breed out of it and go back to your petty little squabbles about what really ‘matters’.”

“If I’m too verbose for you, I’ll say it again in smaller words:” she growls, slamming her combat knife into the table and sinking it in about 5 inches, “ **go. Fuck. Yourself.** ”

The man looks shell-shocked by her outburst, but seems to have the composure to not get mad. In fact, he seems... excited?

———

Ozma hasn’t seen sass like this since his _first life._ Well, he’s seen sass before, but never so perfectly compressed into the form of one little silver-eyed murderer- this girl could probably just flip off a Grimm and kill it with the loathing in her (silver) eyes alone. He wonders to himself if the Rose family are descendants of the native berserker tribes of Vale, or if she just has somehow cross-inherited Raven Branwen’s sass from her half-sister.

He clears his throat, collects his thoughts, and delivers a rebuttal that he heard during the previous semester of Beacon (and had then modified for his own use):

“Such a bleak outlook and crude language prompts me to ask you a single question: you go down on your dead mom with that mouth?”

The girl’s eyes light up like someone’s just told her all the Grimm are dead, she lets out a disbelieving little ‘heh’, and then _explodes_  into raucous laughter that drives her to the point of tears and shaky, giggly gasps.

———

Ruby takes a minute to calm down, a mix of the smugness on the man’s face and the utter horror on that of his coworker (Maybe she’s his mistress? That riding crop is suspicious...) reigniting the powderkeg of manic laughter time and time again until her face hurts from smiling and tears run down her face in what might be referred to as ‘joy’.

“J-just for that, I’m gonna show up for all four years of my sister’s education and raise _ **Hell**_ **,** you old fuck.” she gasps out through her semi-desperate struggle for air.

The man nods. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, if I’m honest. Beacon needs a little more chaos.”

(Both of them grin as Glynda slams her head into the wall and screams into her hands. They can practically _taste_ the paperwork she’ll be stuck doing.)


	5. 0-3: Talking in Tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chatfics are popular sometimes, guess I’ll do that for a second or some shit.
> 
> Plot is in here somewhere.

**Deadlikeroses:**

And that’s why real women eat ass with a knife and fork, you scrubs.

**Your-disappointing-son:**

i have never felt so attacked before in my life 

how dare you

 

**Boomeryang:**

bold of you to  _ass_ ume that I don’t eat it with proper silverware

 

**Old Dog’s Tricks:**

My mother would string up an ass over a fire and ate it while it was still half-cooked.

Like a real woman.

Grow a spine like she had and your scrawny little backs won’t hurt all day.

 

**Deadlikeroses:**

I forgot your mom also fucking fist-fought a Beowolf _and_ _got_ _eaten_ _alive_.

**Old Dog’s Tricks:**

Way to aim for the low-hanging fruit, Rose.

 

**Boomeryang:**

don’t you mean the low- _Yanging_ fruit?

eh?

get it?

 

**Your-disappointing-son:**

Why did you invite your sister

her puns suck

at least the old guy has cool memes

 

**Boomeryang:**

i’m going to find you and choke you to death you little fuck

 

**Your-disappointing-son:**

_owo.jpg_

**Deadlikeroses:**

Ugh. Why did you show him that image, old man? Now we can’t threaten him without him making it sexual in some way.

 

**Old Dog’s Tricks:**

Because my honor demanded it.

 

**Your-disappointing-son:**

thank you daddy

 

**Old Dog’s Tricks:**

Please don’t call me that, boy. You’ll give me Great War flashbacks.

 

**Your-disappointing-son:**

don’t call me boy 

what are you, Kratos

 

**Old Dog’s Tricks:**

Damn it, I knew I forgot to sue someone.

 

**Deadlikeroses:**

Wait, they stole your likeness?

No. That’s bullshit.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

_this-can’t-be.jpg_

**Boomeryang:**

What the _fuck_

 

**Your-disappointing-son:**

I knew he was daddy

 

**Old Dog’s Tricks:**

Please stop calling me that.

 

 **@Deadlikeroses** _has changed @_ **Old Dog’s Tricks _’s username_** **_to_ [muffled ‘boy’ in distance] _._**

 

**Boomeryang:**

_Totally_ didn’t see that one coming.

 

**Your-disappointing-son:**

_@Boomeryang_ where did you get that sarcasm font

also RIP daddy

 

**[muffled ‘boy’ in distance]:**

Why are you three like this?

It’s a good thing I’m going to Beacon to keep you in line, Rose. 

Damn place would burn down in an hour if nobody watched you.

**Deadlikeroses:**

>:3

See you fucks at Beacon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Low-quality shitposts at a moment’s notice 
> 
> I hope that’s why you read my fics, guys and gals


	6. 1-2: The Shining Beacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beacon awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn’t tell, I’m labeling the episodes by their episode titles until canon divergence becomes too great and it goes its own way.

Ruby and Yang sit next to Søren on the airbus to Beacon, letting him share his combat experiences and what-not, since the old fuck doesn’t really use his Scroll for much other than phone calls- and the occasional online chatroom visit with Ruby and Yang, although those are few and far between.

Some blonde fuckboy pukes on Yang, prompting Ruby to burst into hysterics and Søren to fondly regale anyone listening about the first time he got thrown up on.

Yang gets so mad that the vomit instantly vaporizes and then she promptly punches the kid so hard he slams into the glass and leaves a crack in it.

Ruby texts her friend (the one she met online):

**Hey, you up yet? I’m on the airbus to Beacon**

**with Yang and the old man btw**

He responds after a few seconds. 

**_Yeah, my boss’ ginger henchman got shot in the back by some punk_**

**_it’s super fucking funny_ **

**_used to walk with a cane to look good and now he needs it to walk_ ** 

Ruby chokes on her own spit, eyes bugging out temporarily. Her blood turns to ice for a moment.

**Wait what does he wear**

**does he wear a black hat with a red stripe**

It’s not long before she receives a response.

**_you?!_ **

**_you shot him?!_ **

Ruby fumbles with her phone for a minute and manages to punch out a response.

**NO I TOTALLY DIDN’T SHOOT HIM WITH THE RIFLE I STOLE**  

His response is several laughter emoticons and a picture of the ginger in question, who looks to be very much in pain. She giggles nervously, worried that the man she shot is going to send a hit squad after her, and texts him again.

  **So, uh... wanna meet in person this weekend? There’s a good ice cream place in Vale we can meet at.**

She waits, silently panicking as she watches the three dots cheerfully bounce up and down.

**_lol sure I don’t have anything better to do_ **

She sighs and sends him the location, relieved that this meeting hasn’t gone too disastrously before it even began.

Yang nudges her and points down at the academy as their descent begins to gradually slow.

“Hey, we’re here!”

Ruby rolls her eyes.

———

 

“So, uh... why’d you want me in your office, Headmaster?” Ruby asks, eyes full of false innocence and a smug grin on her face. Ozpin smiles back, eyes glimmering with rapidly-growing plans, or at least what looks like rapidly-growing plans.

“Well, since you somehow managed to bring one of Atlas’ most dangerous assassins onto Beacon grounds, I would say that you have an explanation to give, yes?”

Ruby shrugs, picking under her fingernails with her knife, her feet up on Ozpin’s desk.

“He said someone had to make sure I didn’t accidentally nuke this place, so that’s why he’s here, if that’s any consolation. Also he has my meds, so that’s his other use here- making sure I don’t spaz out, y’know?”

Ozpin just nods.

“I have some papers you’ll need to sign so we can stockpile more medications for you.”

———

Ruby is wandering around the courtyard when some white-haired girl slams into her back.

She immediately flips the girl over, straddles her perceived aggressor, and presses the edge of her knife to the girl’s throat.

“Watch it, you slut,” she growls out, immediately not in the mood to deal with the bullshit this bitch  _obviously_  carries around with her like a shawl, “before someone guts you like the rich pig you are.”

The girl’s pale complexion pales further- if that’s even possible- and she squeaks out a tiny, terrified apology.

Ruby gets off of her and points away towards the academy doors with her knife.

“Better run before my good mood spoils, high society.”

(She’s never seen someone run so fast in heels.)


	7. Disengagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combat begins.

The night passes swiftly, and the day truly begins anew over the Emerald Forest.

Ruby manages to barely catch a tree as she falls, Ashtongue catching its trunk, and she yanks her prized weapon free of the mostly-slaughtered tree.

She looks down fondly at her baby- or at least the closest thing she’ll have to one- and inspects it carefully as she walks.

Ashtongue is by no means what could be considered a hunter’s weapon, is not a scythe or a sword or a mace. 

Ashtongue is a drill on the end of a spear’s haft, with the ability to fold in on itself into a lighter throwing spear. The end can open and spew flames. If she bothers to press it, though, there’s a button that makes her weapon fold around the arm holding it and become a fist weapon. 

(She spent about two weeks doing nothing but playing the BioShock series to study the drills of the monstrous guardians that lord over Rapture with heavy, wading steps and foghorn bellows.)

Fire Dust, it appears, works best when drilling. Ruby’s weapon of choice punches through her foes in rushes of spiraling flame, sending whirling cinders and Grimm smoke into the air on thermal updrafts that dissipate as soon as they’re born. 

———

She stalks through the forest with Ashtongue collapsed into its travel form at her hip- a bulky metallic cylinder, studded with plating and small parts that shift slightly every few seconds. 

She climbs up a tree with the use of her paired knives and pulls Glacier- Søren’s Atlesian battle rifle, augmented with parts from the rifles and pistols she scavenged from her previous run-ins with the thugs and miscreants of Vale- off its holster on her back, snapping a clip of ice rounds into her mentor’s weapon. 

She runs from tree to tree, popping the heads of any Grimm she spies through the treeline and making her way to the cliffside, where she’d probably have a better line of sight on whatever the fuck that psychopath Ozpin sent her out here for. She hears a muffled scream and whips around to look at the forest floor below, watching a small group of boys being attacked by the Grimm.

 She rolls her eyes and sits there, watching the beasts tear them apart and drag their bodies away. Her ‘break’ sufficiently over, she returns to her trek through the Emerald Forest. She drops down into the underbrush and crawls around for a few minutes, not really having much else to do, the Grimm offering little resistance.

She sees someone run by and grins before lunging out of the underbrush and grabbing their ankles.

———

Blake shrieks at the top of her lungs and whips around with a downward slice, attempting to slay whatever creature of Grimm just tried to snatch her up. She hits nothing but a few stray rose petals and then quickly finds herself pinned to a tree by several thick chunks of ice.


End file.
